


Missing

by Kissa



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dark, Dark Thoughts, M/M, Open to Interpretation, Past Jalec, current malec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:07:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissa/pseuds/Kissa
Summary: Jace turns fifty while out on a mission in Paris and he takes a walk down the banks of the Seine.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood/Jace Wayland
Comments: 17
Kudos: 28





	Missing

**Author's Note:**

> I did not tag major warnings, because this is left open to interpretation.  
> I'll just say this story was inspired by the song "Vermissen" by Juju featuring Henning May.  
> The ending is what you want it to be.

Jace looks over the dark river which slithers at his feet like a terrifying, but sleeping serpentine demon.    
  
It’s a quiet night otherwise and he finished his mission early. He did not expect it to go so smoothly, but the Shadowhunters from the Paris Institute are very capable and their intel was excellent. He was in and out in less than two hours.    
  
He still has some time until he has to portal back, and he could have gone to eat something, which was his initial intention, but walking on the banks of the Seine, he went past some restaurants where couples were dining by candlelight, unaware of the demons that had been lurking in the dark only a few meters away. And he decided to walk on.    
  
He shouldn’t feel any different today than on any other day, he hasn’t celebrated since he was a child, being raised by Valentine, a time when his birthday meant a day where he got to do what he wanted. 

Earlier, when he walked through the crowd on Champs-Elysees, a familiar scent, which he fought his entire life to forget, reached him from one of the well dressed people passing him by. It wasn’t identical to the one buried in his memory, but it was similar enough that it took him back to the night his life ended.    
  
He and Alec were young, perhaps too young to be on that mission alone. And maybe there was something in the air, some traces of magic from the warlocks they had cornered making potions for Valentine. At any rate, they had been more willing to open themselves to risk, to danger, to the forbidden.    
  
Jace remembers very well, what it felt like to wrap his arms around Alec like a lover; to guide him to the fine white sand of the beach near where their mission had taken them. He remembers the taste of Alec’s lips on his, his warm skin, the fragrance wafting off of Alec, messing with Jace’s mind and deconstructing the world around them only to rebuild it as a perfect version. He remembers Alec’s hands on his bare skin, searching, inexperienced, but full of desire, leaving caresses and tender touches in places that had only ever known pain before.    
  
The tears running down Jace’s face now, leaving burning streaks on his skin in the cold night air hearken to the tears he and Alec both shed on that night long ago. Aware there could only be the one time, they still went through with it for a myriad of reasons, which all felt right to them back then, the most important being that they were each other’s whole world and they loved each other in a way that was as obvious and as reflex as breathing.    
  
Their bodies knew each other already, from bleeding together and aching together, from being locked hundreds of times in the bloody dance of fight training and moving as one in battle. From lying down next to each other for rest, guarded against nightmares and relived moments.   
  
Jace had never been with anyone in that serious, definitive way - neither man nor woman - at that time. And Alec hadn’t even kissed anyone. Jace had been his first everything.   
  
Jace would have been content to be the only one for Alec. He knew he wasn’t perfect, but he loved Alec more than he loved himself - which had been his first mistake.    
  
One night - one night which they had lengthened into an eternity outside of the measured time, knowing full well they would have to pretend it had never happened come morning.    
  
Alec had been able to look at his parabatai with unchanged affection and loyalty. But Alec had grown up surrounded by people who loved him, in more or less functional ways. Jace had grown up all alone, with all the pressure and all the punishment on him. It had made him grabby and selfish.    
  
So he had ached to have Alec in his arms again; he could not understand why it wasn’t allowed, why it was not a possibility for them, not even in secret, but Alec had been firm.    
  
“I don’t want us to be deruned and exiled if we get found out, Jace. You don’t deserve it, and neither do I. I will always love you, but not like that. It is forbidden.”    
  
And then… then Clary had stormed into their lives. Clary had led them to Magnus and Jace had seen his parabatai fall in love for real and find happiness with the High Warlock. He had heard and witnessed how much Alec was willing to sacrifice to keep Magnus safe - even being turned into a vampire so he could travel to Edom, which would have meant severing the parabatai bond. 

Jace had always pictured growing old like a process that happened when you weren’t paying attention, while busy doing your job and trying to spend time with your loved ones in between. But for him, it had been a slow decay, like cracks in the glaze of a gilded statue. People had come and taken a piece each, until only the marble blank underneath was left.    
  
He had nothing.    
  
Clary had returned to the Shadow World after Jace had fought Heaven and Hell for her right to get the memories of her previous life as a Shadowhunter back. They had been engaged for a while, and Clary had broken it off when it had become clear that Jace couldn’t give her children. It was all there, they had been to mundane and Clave specialists, but no one had been able to find anything wrong. Then Clary had begun to suspect Jace simply didn’t want to get her pregnant and his body was simply listening to his wishes.    
  
In fairness, she wasn’t wrong. Jace had resented having to settle with the role assigned to him by his world. He had tried to beat himself up, shame himself, blackmail himself into wanting that which was available and expected of him, but to no avail.    
  
He had let her go, unable to lie any more than he already had by going along with their relationship. Within a year, Clary had found someone else, married them and moved to Idris.    
  
He did not begrudge Alec his happiness, but it pained him that it left no place for his.    
  
And there had been so many moments to make a scene, to fight, to plead - he was a Herondale, he could have laws changed, he could raise a storm of pushback on Alicante and make it so that parabatai could be together. But he didn’t want to be the villain in everyone else’s story and he didn’t want to strip Alec of his hard won peace and private happiness.    
  
Alec was more loving than him. Less selfish, too. Alec was well aware of his mortality, made even more relevant in his marriage to a partner who could not die and could not age. Still, the fear of being nothing but a blip on the map of Magnus’ heart did not stop him from wanting the few decades of happiness he would have with the warlock.    
  
Time had passed and everyone had found a place to belong, a love to fight for and to come back home to - all but him.    
  
It would have been bearable if it had been just that - because happiness is never a guarantee, much less for a Nephilim, and one could live a life of service and die with dignity, without there being a grieving partner left behind.   
  
But Jace’s heart had mutated sometime along the way - into a dark device which pumped poison into his veins with every breath he took.    
  
Nephilim only loved once, he had found it to be true when he had realised that there could be no other for him but Alec. He had tried, he had told himself maybe he hadn’t looked hard enough, maybe if he just waited a bit, that someone special would come.    
  
But here he was, having turned fifty, an age he had honestly never imagined he would live to see. He moved through the world like the ghost he already was, coming and going unnoticed, going on the missions no one else could cover because they had children at home, destroying hell realms on his own because of his legendary angelic powers, returning to an empty, cold room at the Institute and a microwaved dinner.    
  
Jace raised the collar of his elegant black woolen coat and put his hands in his pockets. Everyone expected him to go on, to be the beacon of bravery and excellence for all Nephilim and silently retreat to the shadows for the times when he wasn’t needed.    
  
He hadn’t felt Alec’s side of the bond in years, and the rune Alec had etched into his skin all those years ago had faded to a slightly raised, barely visible skin-coloured scar. Alec still had his rune intact, and Jace knew that because he had sent pictures of him with Magnus and the kids at the beach in Mallorca. It made sense, because Jace had not filled the space Alec had vacated in his soul with anyone new. 

He would have given anything to be able to go back in time and undo that one night when he and Alec had allowed themselves to give in and love each other the way they both had desperately needed. Perhaps some needs were better left unmet, rather than having to live with clear knowledge of what you gave up.    
  
Jace gasped out loud at the sacrilegious thought he had just had. No, no, no - he did not want to go back and undo the one moment in his miserable life when he had felt beautiful and eternal like a god.    
  
What he desperately wished for was that Alec had loved him with the same stubborn recklessness as he loved Alec.    
  
Sometimes there are things, little silly things that come into your life to distract you when you’re teetering on the edge, about to fall. Other times, it’s your birthday on a Saturday night in Paris and all you can feel is the memory of love while around you, everyone has something to celebrate. All your thoughts are coming together to confirm what you’ve been dreading all these years - that from the moment you decided to let go, to not be the selfish asshole, it was too late to fix any of it.   
  
Of course the darkness ahead makes more sense than the portal behind. 

(the end)    
  



End file.
